


All For One And One For All (The United We Stand Remix)

by lls_mutant



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-23
Updated: 2010-10-23
Packaged: 2017-10-12 20:30:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/128740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lls_mutant/pseuds/lls_mutant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The civil war is tearing the Cylons apart, unless a One can find a way to change his brothers' minds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All For One And One For All (The United We Stand Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [grey_sw (grey)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A Symphony for Twelve](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/1699) by grey_sw. 



"I don't understand," the Four said as they walked down the halls together. "I know you've thought that we were wrong about the humans for a while now. But the Twos, Fours, and Sixes as well? You're out of your mind."

"Maybe so. But without them, we're in a hell of a lot of trouble."

"They just gave the Centurions free will, filled us with bullets, and essentially started a civil war. How are we not in trouble?" The Four smirked. "Aside from the fact that we're winning."

"Don't underestimate them," Cavil warned. "You and I both saw it on Caprica- even a few determined hold outs make life hell for everyone. This is going to be the death of the Cylon race."

"I think you're overreacting."

"I don't think so."

"The rest of the Ones think you are, too."

"No, they don't, or they'd go ahead and box me. They were close enough to doing it after Caprica."

The Four considered this. "True. But you're not going to be able to convince all the Ones that eradicating the Twos, Sixes, and Eights isn't a good idea. Not alone."

"Then you help me."

"Since when do the Ones listen to any other model?" the Four asked.

True enough. Cavil showed his assent with a nod. "But if I could get the Ones to reach a consensus…."

"If you can do that, it would change the whole ball game," the Four admitted. "But you're not going to be able to do that."

Cavil smirked. "We'll see."

 

***

 _He_ resurrected. Cavil sensed it, his hand in the port, the knowledge thrumming down each circuit masquerading as nerves. He checked again to be sure. _Him._ It _was_ him.

He couldn't box him, as much as he wanted to. He wasn't anywhere near the facilities, and boxing wasn't something that could be done from a remote location. But he could alter his brother's programming a little… just enough to get him stuck in an infinite loop.

He'd waited a while for this opportunity, for his brother to be in this position when he was able to do something about it. As he stuck him in his loop, helpless for now, Cavil smiled.

It might be almost too late, but this was a golden opportunity.

***

Coffee. Cavil needed coffee.

He put the pot on, and the smell began to percolate through his small room. Coffee was the one thing he wasn't sure if he should curse or thank humans for. Ever since his time on Caprica, he couldn't live without the stuff. He watched the pot eagerly, and then finally poured out a cup.

If he was another model- hell, if he was another copy of _this_ model- booze might seem like a good idea now. The place where resurrection had been ripped out of their programming felt like an amputation, a gaping, bleeding hole. He could barely touch it in his mind without increasing the pain and the fury at the loss. He sipped the scalding-hot coffee, and it helped, just a little.

Frakking Twos and Sixes and Eights. How many of them had ever _needed_ resurrection? It gave him one hell of a headache, but Cavil remembered that relief coming too in that tub, knowing that he was still in existence. Frak, it had made his brother stationed on _Galactica_ giddy enough himself Cavil himself hadn't been boxed. Of course, his brothers had a lot to do with that anyway, but so did the relief of being more than just an oblivion.

And for what? Cylons weren't going to reproduce, which was just as well. Who wanted a bunch of snot-noted toddlers running around a base star? Resurrection was the way to go. But without it, they were as good as dead. And even if there was some mystical divine intervention granting those Sixes and Eights the magical power of pregnancy, how the hell were they- less than a basestar full- going to repopulate the entire goddamned race?

There was a knock on his door, and he sighed impatiently. "What?"

It was the Four from Caprica. "Sorry to disturb you," he said, in a tone that meant he wasn't sorry at all, "but there another basestar is looking to come aboard."

"How many does this make here?" Cavil groused. "Three basestars?"

"Four."

"Right. Four." He frowned. Four basestars crippled in the battle with the Twos, Sixes, and Eights. There were a lot more basestars out there of Ones, Fours, and Fives, not to mention an entire frakking Colony, but that wasn't the point. Cavil stood up. "I'll come with you."

The Four nodded. "Figured you would," he said. "Come on." There was a darkness in his tone that Cavil didn't like. Granted, the Fours liked to sound serious and important half the time anyway, but this wasn't posturing. This was real.

They walked through the basestar. It was crowded. He kept walking into projections; a nightclub down this corridor, a library in that corner, a desert wasteland over there. The sentimentality of it made him sick. (Not to mention, who the _hell_ projected a desert wasteland?) There was nothing _wrong_ with the clean lines and orderly precision of the basestar itself, for frak's sake.

They reached the hangar bay, and Cavil wanted to throw up. The number of injured Cylons walking around was bad enough, but the number of dead bodies accumulating in a corner was even worse. Fours were moving among the refugees, sorting out those that could be saved from those that couldn't. Here and there, he heard the Prayer to the Cloud of Unknowing. He found himself bowing his head.

"Hey. You all right?" The Four touched him on the elbow.

Cavil shook him off. "Don't ask stupid questions," he said. He didn't know why he bowed his head himself. The whole question of God or gods was some of the most superstitious bullshit he'd ever heard. "What are the numbers off this basestar?"

"We've got two hundred seventeen Fives, one hundred seventy four Fours, and one hundred and twelve Ones."

"Frak." Cavil leaned against the railing. "How many have we lost? Total?"

"Not nearly as many as them," the Four said smugly. "Eight basestars are inoperable."

"Only eight? Then why the frak are we taking on so many refugees?"

"We're here," the Four said simply. "What else would you do with them?"

"Right," Cavil said sourly. "This has all happened before, and this will all happen again."

"What?" The Four stared at him.

Cavil waved his hand. "Some shit they used to say on Caprica. Remember?"

"Of course." He frowned. "But like you said, it was all a fallacy."

"I'm starting to wonder. You really think it was the best idea to kill off all the rebels?"

"After what they did to us?" the Four said sharply. "After what they did to the Centurions?" His face darkened. "Going against consensus has its consequences. _You_ know that."

Cavil arched an eyebrow. "Reminder or warning?"

"Both."

"All I'm saying is that killing off all the humans was a mistake that came back to bite us in the ass. I have a feeling this one might, too."

"That had better be all you're saying," the Four warned. "I'd better get down there. And you've got work to do, too."

"Right." He watched the Four go down to the refugees who were still coming off heavy raiders, and then turned around to head back to his office.

***

It _had_ been a mistake, the extermination (or near extermination) of the human race. Cavil had learned that on Caprica. Not because the humans were so beautiful and perfect and noble, but because in the end, it hadn't gotten the Cylons what they wanted. What was the frakking point?

And what was the point now? Sure, the Twos, Sixes, and Eights were dead wrong about the Centurions. And yes, they massacred over three hundred Ones, Fours, and Fives, although they were all able to resurrect. And the Ones, Fours, and Fives had made them pay. And what had changed for the better? The Five would never stop loving humanity. The Twos, Sixes, and Eights would never believe that they were wrong about the Centurions. And the Cylons would go the way of the humans because they couldn't frakking agree.

 _This has all happened before and will all happen again _was starting to look all to true. Not because there was some mystical, uncreative God moving them all around like pieces on a chessboard, but because the Cylons refused to learn.__

And it wasn't the Centurions, or the matter of resurrection. The lack of unity was disturbing, but Cavil could accept that. It was the ruthless hacking off of anything that didn't fit into that unity. It was the slaughter, it was the war, it was the boxing of an entire line, it was model turning on model, individual turning on individual. This wasn't what the Cylons were capable of being.

He felt the absence of the Twos, Sixes, and Eights, just like he'd once felt the absence of the Sevens. But the Sevens hadn't hurt like _this_. He'd once believed there was justification in the extermination of the Sevens, and the pain and the pride were still strong enough that he could convince himself that the Sevens were a special case. But the Twos, Sixes, and Eights… he could hear the crying out as the basestars descended on them.

And worse, he could feel the pha special case. But the Twos, Sixes, and Eights… he could hear the crying out as the basestars descended on them.

And worse, he could feel the physical pain of his own brothers. He could feel their fear that they might die without resurrection, that they would vanish from existence and be not even a memory. He understood that, more than any other One on this basestar, he was sure. But there was nothing he could do to stop it, no assurance that they would survive, or that they would come back.

He sat down in his chair at his desk and poured himself a fresh cup of coffee. It was strong and bitter and black, just how he liked it. He sipped in silence, in the peace of his office that wasn't any peace at all.

***

He was connected to the mainframe when he sensed a heavy raider approaching. What made this one different than the swarm of raiders surrounding the basestar was the signature: there was an Eight aboard. He probed deeper. The Eight was with a One. It was them. It was _him/_

He went out into the hallway, ready to meet them. The Eight that still called herself Boomer was holding his arm, helping him like a dutiful daughter helps an infirm father. The comparison made him smirk. It would drive his brother over the edge to know that he had to be helped like this, that _love_ was the only thing keeping him from sprawling on his ass.

Boomer spotted him. "Can you help us?" she asked.

Cavil shrugged. "What happened?" Although he knew- better than she did, actually.

"I got him out of the resurrection tub before the Hub blew, but something's wrong with him," Boomer explained. "We need a bed, or a couch or something."

Cavil snorted. "You think you're the only refugees here? This isn't his ship, and we've already got about a hundred or so extra Ones from the Hub and the other basestars. Though you're the only Eight..." For all the good that would do him. Still, it was something. "At any rate, we haven't got space to spare."

"Not even for your own brother?"

 _The one that would have boxed me?_ he thought, but didn't say it. "Look, honey, I've got plenty of brothers, and we're all pretty busy at the moment. Do me a favor and put that one outta his misery, will you?"

She stared at him. "What?"

He could kill him himself. He _wishes_ he could. "He's obviously broken. Shoot him. In the head, OK? And then find something useful to do." He watched her to see her reaction, wondering if she would/

She gaped at him for another half second, then there was a click and a cold metal circle as her gun pointed right at his own forehead. "Or I could just shoot you in the head. How about it?"

And yet again, _love_ saved the day. He smirked. "Hm. Well, when you put it that way... one bed, coming right up." He bowed mockingly, gesturing for them to follow him. Boomer was looking around suspiciously at everything: at the halls, at the rooms, at the Centurions that followed them. His brother just stared straight ahead, practically drooling. Cavil hid his smile.

"There's a cot in there," he said as he showed them the room. "Stay out of the way. There's a lot to be done, and the last thing we need is an Eight and her busted boyfriend frakking everything up." He nodded to them, and then stepped out of the room.

***

"What are you doing?"

Cavil turned away from the screen to see the Four standing there, watching him. "What's it matter?"

The Four ambled in and looked over his shoulder. "Nice little bit of rewiring and programming," he said grudgingly.

"I thought so," Cavil agreed. "Although so far there hasn't been much to see." He gestured at the screen, where Boomer was sitting, clutching the One's hand.

The Four smirked. "You looking for porn?"

Cavil snorted. "Not _looking_ for it, although I assume I'll get it fairly soon. I'm just about to end the loop."

"The one you stuck him in?" The Four leaned in, interested. "What are you going to do?"

"Going to hear what he has to say."

The Four flicked a sideways glance at him. "And then what?"

"Well, that depends on him, doesn't it?"

"You putting yourself in the role of protector?" the Four guessed. "If he starts talking genocide again, you'll kill him? Still on your 'save the humans' crusade?"

Cavil didn't answer. Instead, he directed his attention at the screen. Boomer was clinging to the One's hand, begging him to wake up.

The Four yawned. "Wake me up when something good happens," he said, plopping down into the seat beside Cavil. He closed his eyes.

Cavil took off his hat and leaned his chin on his hand, watching the screen intently. He wasn't sure _why_ he was even giving this One a second chance. If he killed him now….

If he killed him now, who said that _he_ would have the influence that this model had over the line? That was the lesson of the humans, after all, and of their wars. Just because you killed people didn't mean you got what you wanted all the time.

With a heavy sigh, he released his brother from the loop he was trapped in.

***

His brother was snarling. "I'll find them and I'll make them die. I'll kill every last Two, every last Six, and every last Eight. And then I'll kill all the humans, and then we reasonable Cylons will go back to the homeworld. And this time we are never leaving again!" By the end he was shouting, clenching his fists as though longing for somebody to hit.

Cavil frowned. He cocked his gun, standing up, but the Four grabbed his wrist. "Wait."

"Wait for what?" Cavil demanded, glaring down at him. "I think it's pretty clear-"

But Boomer was leaning forward. "We can't," she told the One, and to Cavil's amazement, his brother actually hesitated.

"And why not?"

"Unity," Boomer said.

 _Unity._ Cavil sat back down, putting the gun on the table. "She has my attention," he muttered. The Four just made a knowing gesture with his head.

The One didn't look so impressed. "Frakkin' unity," he said with a frown. "Consensus. Oneness. Good ol' Cylon kumbayah, huh? As if Three really gives a wet slap about unity, after what she did to me at the Hub!"

"Three?" That was new. Cavil looked at Four. "I thought the Threes were all boxed."

The Four was frowning. "They are," he said. "I don't know what-"

"She does want unity, Cavil," Boomer was saying. "It's just... probably not the kind you're thinking of."

"What?"

"Six told me about it when I was on the Basestar, back when everyone was voting on whether or not to reconfigure the Raiders."

"You mean, when we were voting and she and her stupid pals were busy bringing about the downfall of our entire race?" the One asked.

"Yes, the last day we were all together," Boomer said. "Six came up to me right before I left for your ship. She said Caprica had told her something special. She took my hand and said to me, 'our paths may diverge, but someday we'll all find unity--'"

"Oh, yeah, sure," the One interrupted, rolling his eyes. "Then she made the first overture by uniting me, Doral, and Simon with about three hundred bullets each. How very kind of her. I'll be sure to send her a thank-you card. Ahem. My dearest Number Six: frak you. Yours sincerely, Number One..."

Boomer cut him off. "Caprica said it would happen to all of us, Cavil. 'Peace and unity, all twelve of us'."

The Four sat back. "Frak me."

Cavil fumbled for his coffee cup. "The Five. The others must be after the Five."

"Of course," the Four groaned. "We should have seen it. They're with the Fleet. They… but what the _frak_ will we do with the Five?"

"I have no idea," Cavil said, sipping his coffee and watching the pair in his inner office argue. "But I do know that we're in a shitload of trouble right now?"

"How do you figure?"

Cavil snorted. "You're the doctor. How do you suggest we reproduce?"

"Cylon pregnancy is-"

"Hell with love and God and all that shit," Cavil said. "Look around. We're a basestar of men. I don't care how good a doctor you think you are, you're not going to pull off a pregnancy with that, especially when you couldn't do it with real live women. And without resurrection…."

"We don't know how long we have," the Four said.

"You want to find out?"

The Four pressed his lips together, silent, and turned his attention back to the screen.

"We have to find the others," Boomer was saying. "We've got to put the fleet back together."

"You think it'll go back together?" The One was sitting on the bed, playing angrily with his white robe.

"Of course it will," Boomer tried to reassure him. "They're our family. Our own brothers and sisters."

The One was far from convinced.. "Oh, right. Of course. After all, if you don't have your family to fill you full of bullets, break your neck, and then team up with your blood-enemies to destroy your entire civilization, who do you have?"

"He's got a point," the Four said in an aside to Cavil.

"That's just it," Boomer implored. "We don't have anybody else. No matter how bad things are between us, they're still our brothers and sisters, aren't they? We love them. We have to give them another chance. Please, for unity's sake, can't we at least try?"

"And so does she," Cavil pointed out to the Four. "Look, this 'save the humans' campaign isn't actually about the _humans_. It's about the Cylons. We keep doing things like this, there's not going to be any of us left, either. We can shoot the frakkers out of existence, but then all that's going to happen is we're going to wear out one day, and all that's gonna be left is the stars and the gases and nothing else."

"But they-" the Four began.

"That's just it," Cavil shot back. "You know that 'forgiveness' shit Anders was always going on about back on Caprica? It ain't forgiveness if you agree with them."

"They took away _resurrection_ ," the Four said. "They've pretty much killed off their own race."  
But Cavil couldn't be bothered to argue. Instead, he leaned in eagerly. The One was talking.

"Sure! They'll probably run away at first, but you're right: if we ever want to be one nation again, we have to find a way to get everybody talking. Even if we gotta hold 'em down and make 'em talk."

"I've had enough of killing," Boomer said. "We won't kill them, will we?"

"Of course not, my dear," Cavil soothed. "Not our own, beloved brothers and sisters. Besides, surely even they won't be dumb enough to try and fight us, not when we've got a fleet of fully-armed and operational basestars at our disposal."

"He's lying," the Four said. "He'd kill them."

"No, he's not. Not completely, anyway." Cavil was searching as best he could. "He'll come along with us." He turned to the Four. "Are you willing to convince your line?"

"If you and he can agree on something anymore, everyone should fall right in," the Four said with a shrug. "But I'll take on any holdouts."

"Good. And if the Fours and the Ones are in agreement, the Fives will follow right alon- hey, what's going on?"

"But what if it is too late?" Boomer had asked. The One was now holding her, his intent perfectly clear.

"Then this is the end of the world," he said, lifting his hands to cover her breasts. "Let's frak."

The Four sighed contentedly. "About time," he said, sitting back.

Cavil nodded his agreement. It was. Unity, in all its forms, was a good thing.


End file.
